by Vivi Paige
“Who’s Gus?”
“A rat,” Deryk said. “Father… Heath seems like an all right sort. Not only that, but he has extensive military training and experience. Be a shame to kill him and not take advantage of that skillset.”
“Yeah,” Heath said eagerly. “I can work for you, work off my debt to you for kidnapping the girl. I’ll work really hard and won’t cause no trouble. I swear.”
“Have some dignity in the face of death.” Joe glared. “You might have just found out, but you’re a Mayne. Act like it.”
“I don’t want to show dignity in the face of death. I want to live,” Heath responded. “Fuck being dignified. I’ll drop to my knees and suck your cock if it will let me walk out of here alive.”
Lucian doubled over laughing, and when he recovered, his gaze bore a tender affection in its depths. “You sound so much like your mother.”
Ella and I exchanged looks. What must the mother have been like?
“All right, we’ll bring you on board, kid,” Lucian said. “What’s your name?”
“He called himself Heath, but it’s not his real name,” Ella said.
“Close enough. We’ll work out the paper trail later, but far as I’m concerned, your name is Heath Mayne. You look like that Joker guy. You know, the scar-faced one, not the liberal commie who danced on the steps.”
We burst into laughter, even Heath, though he did it nervously. I cleared my throat, drawing my father’s attention. “There’s just one last bit of unfinished business,” I said. “The person who hired the Coachmen still needs to be dealt with.”
Lucian’s eyes narrowed, and he nodded slowly. “Everybody to the car,” he said. “I’ll deal with this matter… personally. Deryk, you take your lady upstairs and get her something to wear that isn’t in rags. Maybe run a comb through your hair. I don’t know. You look like shit.”
Ella and I shared a chuckle as we headed up the steps toward the bedroom.
“Your father is awful genial for one of the most feared men in the New York area,” she said.
“He likes you, so he’s showing you his best. Believe me, you don’t want to piss him off and get on his bad side.”
Ella slipped into a pair of jeans and a shirt after we cleaned up a bit. We stopped to share a long, lingering kiss, me holding her about the waist, pressed against my body.
Then we headed back downstairs and out into the predawn darkness. The tiniest golden glow had begun at the horizon. As we drove into the city proper, night turned into day and the sun peeked its cheery face into view.
We drove to Ella’s house, or rather the one she had rented with her stepmother and sisters. Lucian straightened his tie, and then we all followed him up the sidewalk and onto the porch.
Lucian knocked on the door, and the wizened face of a sneering woman appeared. “Don’t you know how early it is?” she snapped. “Get off my property, you…”
Her eyes widened when she realized just who she was addressing. The woman swallowed hard and took a reflexive step back. Her eyes darted to Ella and widened to the size of dinner plates.
“Hello, Agatha,” Lucian said cheerfully. “May we come in, please?”
She didn’t respond, and Lucian pushed his way in, followed by the rest of us. Ella sort of hid behind me, and I stood protectively between her and the nasty stepmother, Agatha. She would never hurt my Ella again, and Lucian was about to see to it.
Lucian sat down on the sofa and patted the cushion next to him. “Have a seat, Agatha.”
“I’d rather stand,” she said. Will and Joe loomed over her, and she quickly seated herself.
Lucian turned toward her, crossing his legs and smiling genially. “Now, I recognize that financial despair is a hell of a motivation and can lead to a lot of stupid decisions, but… what exactly possessed you to screw with my family?” Lucian’s voice rose in volume and intensity. Agatha’s mouth flew open, but only a tiny whimper escaped from it. “Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t even sweat you,” Lucian said. “I’d snap my fingers, and you’d be dealt with. Understand?”
Agatha nodded, trembling like a leaf in the wind. “But I’m taking this personally. Very personally. Now, this can end one of two ways. Number one, you apologize to me, and I find it to be sincere. You promise not to ever fuck with me or my family again. In scenario number one, you get to grow old and gray—well, older and grayer.” Lucian held up two fingers. “Do we really need to talk about scenario number two?”
Agatha shook her head rapidly.
“Now apologize to me, to Ella, and to everyone whose night you ruined. And the next time you even breathe in our direction…”
Joe cracked his knuckles and smiled, blowing her a little kiss.
“Hi there, sweetie,” he said with cold menace. “You’re just my type.”
I didn’t think we would be having any further problems from Ella’s wicked stepmother.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
After all the commotion and tumult of the wild night, it should perhaps have been no surprise that Deryk and I chose to clean up the messy cottage ourselves rather than calling a cleaning service. Even Jimmy the Bull departed with Lucian. There was no longer any concern about Deryk falling off the wagon and doing the Swamp Gas again.
Once we’d cleaned up the entire mess, we collapsed into bed and slept for about fourteen hours, only wakening on a few occasions to use the restroom. Exhaustion could be put off for a while, but sooner or later it came to collect its due.
We enjoyed a long, hot soak in the jacuzzi, enjoyed a meal of leftover five-star cuisine, and talked until late in the evening, when we again collapsed into bed.
On the morning of the second day post-party, we finally felt more ourselves again. I awakened first, rising from Deryk’s bed to pad naked into the bathroom. I turned about and peered at my glass slippers tattoo. I hardly felt it any longer, and I had to admit it was beautiful.
“You don’t have to keep that, you know.”
I turned about to find Deryk leaning on the doorframe, blinking eyes still bleary with recent slumber. A smile stretched my lips as I went to him and slipped my arms around his narrow waist.
“I think it’s grown on me.”
“Yes, but…” Deryk’s voice trailed off.
I got on my tiptoes to kiss him on his stubbled cheek. “It’s fine. I like the design.” Then I pursed my lips and shook my head. “I don’t like your stubble, though.”
He chuckled, and moved over to the sink to obligingly lather up his face. Deryk glanced over his shoulder as I went to the adjacent sink to rinse with mouthwash.
“You don’t see it as a sign of ownership?”
“Oh no, I absolutely do see it as a sign of ownership,” I chuckled. “But I don’t mind being owned by sir.”
He arched an eyebrow, a lascivious grin crossing his features as he flicked foam off the end of his razor. Deryk wiped his face clean and then moved toward me. “So, you’re content to be my Cinderella?” he asked in a low, sexy growl.
“Yes, sir,” I said, breathless with anticipation.
He took hold of my hair at the back of my head, fingers tightening near the roots, and drew my head sharply back. I gasped as he manhandled me and then moaned when his soft lips brushed my neck. Deryk trailed kisses upward, stirring my heart to beat faster. His tongue darted out from those soft lips, caressing me and teasing me with its sly probes.
Deryk moved his lips right next to mine, close enough I could smell the mint toothpaste on his breath. I ached to taste his lips and moved to do so. I barely brushed his mouth with mine when Deryk jerked my head away.
“Did I say you were allowed to touch me?” he teased. I laughed, despite the tears in my eyes caused by the hair-pulling.
“No, sir,” I said all innocently in a little girl voice. “I just couldn’t resist. You know your Cinderella is so hot for her sir.”
“Yes, but you’ll still have to be punished,” Deryk said. He turned me about and force-walked me
out of the bedroom, hand still gnarled in my tresses. I was already wide open and dripping wet before we made it down the first flight of steps. We passed in front of a mirror on the way through the living space, and I caught a glimpse of us reflected in its surface. I hadn’t realized I was smiling so much.
Deryk pushed me through the threshold of the playroom, and my heart rate kicked up a notch. So many toys, so many possibilities. What would he choose to do with his Cinderella next?
He released my hair and then put his mouth next to my ear. I shivered as he ran his tongue up behind it and then bit the lobe firmly before whispering, “Knees.”
I settled down onto my knees, kicking first one leg back and then the other. Then I leaned back on my haunches, spread my thighs wide, and placed my hands, palms up, on top of my legs. My gaze followed Deryk as he paced back and forth in front of me, scrutinizing every aspect of my position.
A tiny gasp escaped my lips when Deryk turned to the wall and selected a leather-tipped wooden riding crop. He slapped it across his palm a few times as he came back to loom over me. Deryk extended the crop down and tapped the inside of my thigh. I moved it out an inch farther, feeling the strain in my muscles and tendons, but it was nothing I couldn’t handle. Nothing that would keep me from pleasing sir.
Next he tapped the crop under my chin, prompting me to lift my head a little higher. He walked around behind me, stopping for a long moment. I panted, wondering what he was doing back there. Apparently satisfied, he walked back to stand before me.
Deryk extended the riding crop down to my bare breast, caressing it with the leather tip. I shivered as goosebumps rose on my skin. Inexorably, it made its way over to my areola. Deryk traced circles around my sensitive, bumped pink flesh, circling my nipple as a shark circled prey right before the catch.
My mouth flew open in a sudden moan as he caressed my nipple at last. The nub swelled under his attentions, growing hard and erect. Deryk continued pumping up the nipple with well-timed, sensual strokes before moving the crop over to my opposite breast.
“You know you’re going to have to pay for touching sir without permission, yes?” he asked in a low growl.
“Yes, sir,” I said, a smile spreading on my lips.
“Are you ready to receive your discipline?”
“Yes, sir,” I said. “Your Cinderella has been a bad, bad girl and she’s ready for sir to teach her how to be a good, obedient, sweet little slave.”
I batted my eyes at him. Deryk’s brow now shone with sweat, which he wiped away with the back of his forearm before licking his lips and devouring me with his eyes.
“Good. Put your hands behind your head.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, doing as I was told. He tapped my nipple with the crop, and I knew where the discipline would be administered. I braced myself for the impact. He lifted the crop away and then brought it down with a sharp slap. I cried out, more from the startling impact than actual pain. A swift heat spread through my nipple and areola, bleeding through the borders to my breast.
He lifted the crop and snapped it down again. This time I winced, gritting my teeth and letting a long, hot hiss out.
“Open your eyes, Cinderella,” Deryk said. My eyes fluttered open, fixed on his adoring gaze. “Look at your nipple.”
He tapped the one in question, as yet unmolested by the taste of the crop.
“This is where the next one is coming. It’s going to be harder than the rest. If you want mercy, you know what to say.”
“Yes, sir,” I said, biting my lower lip. “If I want it, I know what to say.”
He arched an eyebrow and then lashed out with the crop. I gasped as my nipple blazed like fire and then let out a long, undulating laugh. “Whew. Sir wasn’t kidding.”
“Can you take more?” he asked. “A harder slap?”
“Mmm,” I said, considering it. “Yes, sir. Cinderella can take more for sir.”
Deryk snapped the crop into my breast, harder than ever. I gritted my teeth and bounced up and down on my knees, just barely able to maintain position.
“I think that’s as hard as I can take, sir,” I said.
“Good,” Deryk said. “Now that we’re done with the calibration of how hard you can be hit, we can move on with the actual punishment. Ten strokes to your nipples. Every one as hard as that last one.”
I winced and looked up at him with puppy dog eyes.
“That was really hard, sir,” I said.
“Yes, it was. Do you want mercy?”
“Have I asked for it?” I countered with a saucy lilt in my voice.
Deryk stood back and slapped the crop into his palm. “I’ve left you ungagged for a reason. Let me hear you sing, Cinderella.”
He snapped the crop down, hard, and I cried out. He did so again, and tears sprang to my eyes. I took four more brutal swats before I could not take it any longer.
“Glass slipper,” I said, panting hard.
Deryk crouched down next to me and stroked his fingers through my hair. He inspected my reddened flesh and tsked sympathetically.
“Sorry, sir,” I said.
“No, never apologize for communicating your limits to me,” Deryk said. “Besides, I’m thinking a girl as dirty and slutty as Cinderella needs a special kind of training. You’ve paid your penitence.”
“Thank you, sir,” I said.
Deryk went to the wall, and came back with blue silk rope. He motioned for me to stand.
“Up,” he said.
I rose to my feet and then allowed him to bind my wrists to my thighs, putting my arms at my sides. Essentially I was now cupping my own buttocks, and it occurred to me that I would be able to grab and spread them on his command.
Deryk added a line of rope around my midsection, and then another above my breasts, mirroring what he had done last time but with a few variations. When he finished winding the rope around my breasts, they had begun to swell and darken into new levels of sensitivity.
“You’re turning me all different colors today, sir,” I said with a giddy laugh.
Deryk grinned and then took my hair again. I groaned, my pussy throbbing like a bass drum as he dragged me over to the padded table. He pushed me down belly-first onto it, my bound breasts depressed under my weight, increasing their torment.
“Spread your legs,” Deryk said. I did so as best I could, but he wasn’t satisfied, using the crop to slap my inner thighs until they were much wider. Deryk squirted something slippery between my cheeks and slathered it through my crack.
“Oh, sir is such a dirty boy,” I said in a growl as I felt the head of his swollen cock pressing up against my well-lubed dark star.
“Dirty is as dirty does,” he said.
“That doesn’t make any sense,” I said as he worked the crown through my ring of muscle. I gasped as it began stretching me wider.
“It doesn’t have to,” he said, his voice strained as he slowly worked his cock into my ass. “I’m… sir.”
He made it past the secondary ring and slithered inside. I groaned, twisting in my bonds on the leather-topped table. He felt so good inside of me, better than the hook had. Deryk’s hands slapped on either side of my hips, and he drove himself in balls deep. They slapped against my swollen, wide-open labia, stirring the nerves into greater arousal. I was dripping wet, staining the floor with my lustful juices.
Deryk glided in and out, creating a cacophony of contractions spreading out through my body. I barely remembered to ask for permission halfway through my climax. Deryk was rather distracted himself, so I didn’t think he noticed.
“Please, sir, can I come?”
“Yes!” he moaned between pants, the constant slap of his body into mine creating a tattoo akin to a percussion instrument. I came hard, multiple times as he spent himself violating my back door.
Deryk pulled himself out, leaving a sticky strand of seed connecting his member to my gaping hole. He stumbled back, panting and heaving like he’d just run a marathon.
; “Does sir need a nap?” I asked, wriggling my bottom around enticingly. “Maybe sir could plug his Cinderella up with a vibe while he sleeps?”
“Sir is going to wash off this big, nasty cock,” he growled. “And then he’s going to murder Cinderella’s pussy with it.”
I came again, screaming and spurting out onto the floor. Yes, it was very, very pleasing to be owned by my sir.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
I tossed the antiseptic wipe into the wire waste basket and then used another to clean Ella’s bottom, eliciting a chuckle from her lips.
“What’s so amusing?” I asked with a grin. I slapped her firmly across her bare ass. “Huh? Answer me.”
“You take such good care of your girl, sir,” she said. “Cleaning her up when she’s all tied up and can’t do it herself.”
“I’m also the one who violated you in the first place,” I said, squeezing and kneading her sweet rounded bottom. She wriggled about, fingers gathering up her pliant flesh and spreading her cheeks wide for me.
“So, are you going to do it again, or what?” she teased.
“Eventually. But I’m going to teach you a little bit about how thoroughly I own you.”
“Oooh,” she said with a little shiver, which was quite pleasing to watch. “Don’t keep me in suspense… unless you’re planning on using the pulleys again.”
“Maybe later,” I said, grabbing the rope harness between her shoulder blades and using it as a handle to lift her to a standing position. She had trouble keeping her feet, her legs wobbly from her recent climaxes.
“Having problems?” I asked.
“Go ahead, be cocky,” she said. “You earned it, sir. I admit to being a bit trepidatious about having you stuff your cock in my ass, but now I’m an anal convert.”
I gaped in astonishment, and she threw her head back and laughed. I got that feeling again, where even though I was the dom, and she the sub, somehow she was actually the one in control and I was at her mercy rather than the other way around.